


Wanderlust

by ac0lyte



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Found Family?, Gen, Rated teen for swearing, Therapy Arc, it says rpf but this is about the characters, not the ccs who portray them!, seriously they need it, they're healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ac0lyte/pseuds/ac0lyte
Summary: All three of the teenagers have been traumatized and manipulated in ways they don't deserve. They're finally tired of the war and the fighting, and agree to run away to heal from the wounds they never got to.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 47
Kudos: 407





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time publishing really any of my work anywhere, so please be nice :] Let me know if you liked it, please don't tell ccs about it and all other basic rules. The concept isn't entirely original, I first heard about it on Twitter, but hopefully I'll do it enough justice. Thank you for reading!  
> This is strictly about the Dream SMP characters and not the CCs that portray them, if it crosses any of their boundaries it will be taken down immediately.

The beginnings of a fire crackled to life, illuminating Tommy’s face as he sat down on the log. Tubbo sat next to him, tossing sticks on the campfire, a small smile appearing on his face despite how tired he looked. There were dark circles under both of their eyes, the past several weeks having taken incredible tolls on both of them. But at least they were together again.

The past few days had been filled with uncertainty. They’d moved into Tommy’s house together, and they’d talked here and there, but never about anything too deep. For some reason, the atmosphere was just...wrong. They could both feel in the air that they were too afraid to talk about everything. And so they didn’t, resorting to being casual with each other, though they could feel that something about their friendship had changed on a fundamental level. Neither of them liked it, but they were too afraid right now to go back.

“How was your, uh- how was your day today, big man?” Tommy finally broke the silence, trying to fill the space with something. They used to be comfortable in silence with each other.

“Good. I’ve been in Snowchester,” Tubbo said, nodding towards the coat he’d discarded by the fire, the snow almost entirely melted off of it by now.

“That’s good. I was…” Tommy shifted, trying to find a better position on the log they were sitting on. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the apple he’d been saving from earlier. He displayed it to Tubbo, the offer of it implicit in the gesture. “Out preparing.”

Neither of them needed elaboration on what ‘preparing’ meant. They were going to destroy Dream, or die trying. It wasn’t a realization they’d needed to grapple with; death was just a given at this point. Tubbo had accepted the plan quickly when Tommy proposed it to him. They needed those discs back, and Tommy was glad to have someone by his side who would aid him regardless.

“Oh. Yeah,” Tubbo muttered, taking the apple and looking at it, almost scrutinizing. His expression was troubled.

“What?” Tommy asked. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, and looked at Tubbo, who avoided his gaze.

“I don’t know, Tommy.” Tubbo sounded so...wrong. His voice was hollow and unsure, like it had sounded on the eve of L’manburg’s final destruction. Like that of a leader finally sapped of strength and ideas, or perhaps just that of a kid who had been through too much, and was in way over his head.

“What do you not know?” Tommy swallowed. He was pretty sure he knew what it was. He was just delaying the inevitable.

“I don’t know about these discs,” Tubbo confessed, finally looking away from the apple to meet Tommy’s gaze. At Tommy’s crestfallen expression, he backpedaled, “I mean, I’ll do anything to help you out, Tommy. It’s us against Dream, right?” he smiled a little, and Tommy nodded.

“But-”

“ _ But _ ,” Tubbo continued, “It just feels so...I don’t know. Like we’re fighting for something and we don’t even know why. Do you get that?”

Tommy’s expression hardened, and he looked back into the fire. “No, Tubbo, I don’t. I thought you cared about them like I do.” He clenched and unclenched his fists, not quite angry, but irritated at the least. _ What he said that day was true. He doesn’t think the discs matter _ , he thought.

“I do care about them,” Tubbo reassured him, sounding like he was choosing his words carefully. “But...if we die, there won’t be any discs. We’ll be gone forever, you know?” He paused. “We won’t be able to do our secret handshake ever again.”

That got a nose exhale out of Tommy, but he didn’t look back up. The fire was starting to grow, and he concentrated on the flames licking at the air, casting shadows on the Prime Path. If he looked hard enough, and maybe squinted a little, Tommy could almost see Dream’s visage in the flame. Because fire was what he was. Something raging, all-consuming, unkillable. And it pissed Tommy off.

“Why do the discs mean so much to you?” Tubbo asked quietly, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. It was a loaded question and he knew it. Tommy looked back up at his best friend’s scarred face, dimly lit by the firelight, and searched for the answer there.

To be honest, the thought had plagued his mind for many a dull, hopeless day in exile. Why was he still fighting for the discs? He remembered getting them, remembered fighting with Dream for them, remembered trading them for L’manburg’s independence. He remembered how proud Wilbur was of Tommy for that. He remembered vowing to get them back many a time, turning down the Presidency for it, a Presidency that had then fallen to Tubbo.  _ Which he used to exile you _ , something in Tommy’s mind pointed out, but he shoved that thought down.  _ I’ve forgiven him for that _ , he reminded himself.

What made them mean so much to him, though, was the question. The answer was simple, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. Because then it would be a stupid reason, and if there was anything Tommy hated, it was looking stupid.

But the fire would not tell his secrets, and neither would Tubbo. So now was as good a time as any.

“Because it was something you and I did together,” Tommy whispered, his throat tightening a little. “We listened to them together. Remember that time you danced so hard you fell, and then I laughed at you so hard  _ I  _ fell?” He smiled, and Tubbo smiled back at him. “And then we- we fought for them together, too! They’ve been with us since the start.” He sighed, fighting back the threat of tears in his eyes. “If I were to stop fighting for them now, what would that say about us?”

There was a pause as they looked at each other, both of them now unsure. Tommy had never really sat down to think about the discs before. Actually, he’d never sat down to think about anything that had happened to him. There was always something more to deal with. At some point, he’d just stopped trying to work through it.

“Our friendship isn’t determined by whether or not you have those discs,” Tubbo began.

“I know that.”

“Just listen. In case you didn’t,” Tubbo smiled at him, and then continued tentatively, like he was calming a wild animal. “We don’t have to fight for them anymore, you know. We can just be ourselves together. You have other discs. We could make new memories, maybe?” As if in spirit of that, he raised the apple and took a bite out of it. “We could hang this apple core in a frame on our wall,” he joked.

Tommy laughed. For the first time in a while, he felt something warm blossom in his chest. It was how he felt back when Wilbur rallied the Fifth Battalion for revolution, or when Tubbo appointed him Vice President of L’manburg. It was some sort of joy and pride that felt so much better after months of exile. Despite his uncertainty about everything, this moment was a good one.

Footfalls on the Prime Path caught both of their attention, and they looked up from their camaraderie to see who was there. Ranboo’s tall form emerged from the shadows into the firelight, the flames dancing in his unblinking eyes, momentarily entranced by the fire. He was holding a large amount of purple flowers in one hand.

“Hey, Ranboo!” Tommy greeted him, snapping Ranboo out of the blank stare the fire had induced upon him.

“Oh, hey, Tommy,” Ranboo returned, waving with the hand that held the flowers. Some of the petals fell onto the Prime Path, and Ranboo frowned down at them for a moment.

“What are you doing up here so late?” Tubbo asked. He yawned, almost on cue, and added, “It’s almost one A.M.”

“Oh, I don’t really sleep,” Ranboo explained, stepping a little closer to the fire. “I just came to gather some flowers for my place, um, at Techno’s…” he trailed off, glancing at Tommy uneasily. It was clear he didn’t want to hear about Technoblade right now. “Uh, purple is my favorite color. So...” he tried to recover.

“It’s got to be cold up there!” Tubbo remarked.

“Yeah, it is, actually. Would you mind if I,” he gestured at the log opposite the one Tommy and Tubbo sat on, “sat here for a moment? It’s a long way back.”

“Sure!”

“Thank you.” Ranboo sat down awkwardly, his legs much too long for the position he was in, and placed the flowers next to him on the log. After a few moments of silence where he adjusted the crown atop his head, he looked back at Tommy and Tubbo, and his eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“No, we were just talking about the discs,” Tommy said, leaning back. It was a cloudless night, and the stars studded the sky. In Logstedshire, he’d tried in vain a few times to map them, maybe even find some of the constellations Wilbur used to tell him about. He always gave up out of frustration, but he could name at least one or two of them. Aries, Wilbur’s favorite, was off in the distance, looking down at the remains of L’manburg like it was disappointed.

“Oh,” Ranboo whispered.

“Don’t worry. I know you don’t like sides and whatnot. We were actually discussing…” Tommy shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we might stop fighting for them.”

“ _ Really _ ?” Ranboo exclaimed, leaning forward. “That’s-”

“Yeah, yeah, choosing people,” Tommy gave him a knowing smile. “I’m not entirely sold on it, but...I don’t want to lose Tubbo, that’s for sure.” With a conspiratorial lean in, he added, “Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

Ranboo laughed, and Tubbo elbowed Tommy in the gut, a grin spreading across his face. Soon they were all laughing at Tommy’s stupid joke, and it felt almost...cozy.

“Man,” Ranboo said as the laughter died down, “you guys are funny.”

“You should join us more often, memory boy,” Tubbo said, taking another bite out of the apple. “We have snacks sometimes.”

“I am a sucker for snacks.”

As the two of them spoke, Tommy looked back up at the sky. There was something so peaceful about the three of them being able to sit and talk, unhindered by Dream, or the discs, or anything, for that matter. For a moment, they could ignore the scars that had been left by the countless wars, both physical and emotional, and just relax. They were allowed to just be teenagers for once. Sitting around a fire, talking about stupid shit. Eating good food - God, how Tommy had missed good food - and not worrying about the sleep they’d be losing.  _ We should do this all the time _ .

Tommy sat up straight.

_ We should do this... _ all the time.

“Tommy?” Tubbo asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“Hold on, I’m-” Tommy furrowed his brow. “I have an idea. I’m thinking, hold on.”

“Okay,” Tubbo sat back quietly, casting a concerned glance at Ranboo, who shrugged.

“If Dream won’t leave us alone,” Tommy scrambled to his feet, gesturing towards the crater where L’manburg used to be. “And fighting back against him is a surefire way of getting ourselves killed permanently…we need to go somewhere he can’t find us! Right?” He looked to Tubbo and Ranboo for support. They both nodded, though they looked unsure of where this was headed.

Tommy looked at Tubbo, whose eyes shone in the firelight, hanging on to every word Tommy said. “It’s not about the discs. It was never about the discs. It was about you and me, Tubbo, and it was about Dream trying to keep us apart.” Tubbo nodded, and Tommy continued. “Well...he can’t keep us apart if he doesn’t know where we are.”

“You’re not talking about starting another country, are you?” Ranboo asked suspiciously.

“No, no, no, my friend, that’s the great part!” Tommy whirled around to face Ranboo, and gestured widely with his hands. His heart was racing with the excitement of finding a solution to the problem that had haunted them for months. “No more countries, no more war, no more of this bullshit! Just the three of us. No sides.”

Tommy surveyed their faces, and he could see he still hadn’t completely convinced either of them. “Let me paint a picture for you, okay?” He gestured again, pointing around at empty space near the campfire, placing imaginary essentials. “A bee farm over there. A place for Ranboo’s pets there. A pond for fishing, a stable,  _ Hotterer Girl _ …” at their confused faces, he waved that last part off. “Sorry. Getting ahead of myself.” With a sweeping gesture at his and Tubbo’s home, Tommy finished with, “our home - or homes, if you’d like - where nobody can ever make us fight a war ever again. What do you say?”

Tubbo’s grin could’ve lit the area better than the campfire did. “You’d do this, Tommy? No more discs? No more fighting, just...a life?”

Tommy offered his hand to Tubbo, who accepted. He pulled the other boy to his feet, and gripped his hand in solidarity. “Just us. A life.”

Tubbo’s expression was one of pure joy, something Tommy hadn’t seen in a long time. He gripped Tommy’s hand back, and they grinned at each other. As they let go, Tommy turned to Ranboo, who was holding the flowers almost nervously, looking up at them.

“What about you, Ranboo?” Tommy asked. He recalled the days in exile when Ranboo had shown him such kindness, despite barely knowing him. It was the least he could do, really, to invite Ranboo along with them.

“I don’t know, uh...I’d want to say goodbye to Techno and Phil, at least.” He stood to join them, looking down at them from his generous height. “Is that okay…? I do agree, I don’t want sides anymore. I just want people I care about.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tommy said. “Take all the time you need. I’m gonna need a few days myself, to think about the discs.” He glanced at Tubbo, who gave him a supportive smile, then looked back at Ranboo. “And we’ll gather supplies on the sly. Then we’ll leave, middle of the night, away from all of this. Write it down in your book, okay?”

“Got it.” Ranboo produced his memory book from his pocket and began to write.

“This Saturday. No more stupid shit. No more  _ Dream _ . Just us three.” Tommy looked towards the L’manburg crater, his mind racing with alluring thoughts of leaving it all behind. “Forever.”


	2. Chapter 2

The hands on Tommy’s watch seemed to move slower and slower the closer it got to midnight. He’d decided to forego getting any kind of sleep tonight. He knew even if he tried, he wouldn’t be able to shut his eyes. There was too much to think about.

Over the past three days, him and Tubbo had slowly gathered all the iron, food, and other materials that they could without raising any alarm. Ranboo had visited a few times to supply them with pilfered warm coats in case they crossed through a tundra. They’d spoken to the people that they would miss, a list that was surprisingly short for all of them.

Tommy had mainly been concerned with saying goodbye to Ghostbur. Although he wasn’t... _ really  _ Wilbur, more of a shell of himself than anything, Tommy still felt connected to him. He was still Tommy’s brother. He just wasn’t himself.

_ “I might be gone for a while on vacation. Kind of like Logstedshire, but for longer. And I’ll be happier,”  _ he had told Ghostbur, who’d roped him in to looking for friend the sheep. It was a nice, menial activity for their last experience together. At the mention of Logstedshire, Ghostbur had looked up from the blue in his hand.

_ “For how long?”  _ he asked.

_ “A long time.”  _ When Ghostbur looked down, confused, Tommy added,  _ “maybe you can come see me one day. If you get resurrected, I mean. You’d get rained on on the way there.”  _ He smiled, and Ghostbur looked a little more at ease. They’d continued searching for a sheep that liked blue, to no avail, but it was fun to spend time with him.

But tonight wasn’t about Wilbur, and Tommy couldn’t spare him any more thoughts than he had already. Tonight was about him, Tubbo, and Ranboo, and their departure from their homes in - Tommy checked his watch again - ten minutes.

The other major point of reckoning for Tommy had been the discs. Despite Tubbo’s persuading speech, it had been difficult to detach himself from them. He knew he didn’t  _ need _ them, but on some level, they had been so integral to his life that it felt almost... _ wrong _ to give up on them. A few more reassurances from Tubbo had convinced him almost completely, but the thought of their existence somewhere in the world, not in Tommy’s hands, still lay dormant in the back of his mind. He hoped it would disappear when they found their new home.

And besides, he’d already picked out the new discs to take with them. Chirp, Blocks, and Wait lay in the bag he’d packed for the journey, inside cloth sleeves Tubbo had made for them. Along with the sleeves, he’d gifted Tommy his Stal disc, which he had declared he’d been ‘saving for a special occasion’. This one was as special as it could get.

Tommy checked his watch again. Seven minutes until go time. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Quietly, he sat up in bed. He paused for a moment in the silence of his home, listening to it for the last time, filling his lungs with the air. Then he stood and made his way across the room, keeping his movements silent for Tubbo’s sake, and shouldered the bag he had stuffed with supplies.

As he stood and looked at his room, which seemed barren now that he’d taken the pictures of him and Tubbo off the walls, he felt a pang of regret that he was leaving. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to anymore.

But then the idea of  _ why _ he was leaving returned, and he stepped out of the room, turning his back on it. There was a better life waiting, and it wasn’t worth sticking around for sentimentality. Wasn’t that why he had to leave the discs?

Tommy eased the door to Tubbo’s room open and glanced in. A similarly packed bag sat at the foot of the bed, and Tubbo was fast asleep. Tommy knocked on the door.

“Hm?” Tubbo managed, opening one eye.

“We’re leaving, Tubbo,” Tommy whispered. The giddiness in his voice was a surprise even to himself. He wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t notice his hands shaking as well.

“Oh, yeah!” Tubbo said, sitting up and pulling himself out of bed. He smiled at Tommy as he picked up the bag. “Do we have any snacks for the journey?”

“Plenty.”

“Let’s get going, then!”

The journey to the arctic felt a lot shorter than it normally did. The two of them were excited beyond belief, and the second they stepped through the nether portal, they erupted into whoops and hollers of joy and nerves. Tommy didn’t even realize until halfway down the path that they hadn’t stopped to say goodbye to any of the buildings, or the land itself. They were too caught up in being with each other and looking towards the future to care.

When they emerged into the arctic, they were immediately grateful for the coats Ranboo had supplied, although they did look a little ridiculous swaddled in clothing meant for someone as big as Technoblade. A few snowballs were thrown, and Tubbo even made a snow angel, but as they approached Techno’s cabin, they grew silent. This was the only part that would be kind of scary. From here, it was smooth sailing.

They shuffled through the snow to Ranboo’s shack, hoping that the snowfall would cover their footprints by daylight. Two horses were tied to a fencepost out front, browsing through the carrots Ranboo had planted.

“Ranboo!” Tommy hissed, trying to make him out in the darkness. He fumbled with the zipper on his pack, pulling out a lantern, and lit it. Ranboo lay curled up on the bed, and his open eyes shone directly back at them. They both jumped.

“What the fuck, man!?” Tommy exclaimed, a little louder than he should have.

“I thought you said you didn’t sleep!” Tubbo added accusingly.

“Oh, I don’t. It’s just fun to. Even if my eyes don’t close,” Ranboo said, standing. “Sorry I scared you. I honestly almost forgot about this.”

“Yeah, well, good thing you didn’t,” Tommy grumbled. He swung the lantern around, peering through the snow at Techno’s cabin. “Let’s get going before they find us.”

Ranboo shouldered a messenger bag and closed the gate to his shack behind him. “Yeah, if they find that apology cake I baked them before morning, they’ll really know something’s up.” Before either of them could ask about that, Ranboo pointed to the horses. “Sorry, I could only get two. One of us will have to double up.”

“That’s okay, me and Tommy will!” Tubbo volunteered enthusiastically.

“...Yeah, alright,” Tommy conceded, smiling in spite of himself.

The three of them set about strapping their bags to the horses and making some final preparations. Tommy distributed some bread from his pack, and Ranboo shared cookies from his. Tubbo agreed to sit on the back of the horse for a while. After one final moment of shared silence, Tommy spurred the horse forward, and they set off.

The adrenaline and cold air energized Tommy, and once they were far enough past Techno’s cabin, he shouted in excitement. It was a wordless shout, but not one of agony or heartache like the past had brought. It was exhilaration and joy and  _ freedom _ . Tubbo took up the cry as well, and even Ranboo threw in a soft ‘woop’.

The night sky was cloudless, and the group raced under the stars, guided only by ambition and a yearning for independence. For the first several minutes, they went as fast as the horses’ legs could take them, feeling the wind in their hair and the cold nipping at their fingers. It wasn’t the kind of cold that kills. It wasn’t the cold of Pogtopia’s walls, or of nights in Logstedshire. It was the cold of a life not lived, one that lay in wait, ready to be experienced for the first time.

After a few minutes of flying through the snow, the horses slowed, and the three boys sat in silence for a moment, taking in the gravity of their situation.

Tommy was the first to speak. “Holy shit.” It felt appropriate.

“We’re actually doing this,” Ranboo marveled from beside them, clutching the reins tightly. “We’re leaving.”

“Good riddance,” Tubbo chimed in with a yawn.

They rode on in silence for a while, listening to the horses’ hooves trudging through the snow. Tommy hooked the lantern onto the harness and peered ahead. They were approaching the end of the tundra, and the snow gave way to lush open plains populated by tall grasses. Tommy’s pulse quickened, worried they had gone the wrong direction, and that they were coming up on Logstedshire. Or at least, what remained of it.

“We can’t settle there,” Tommy stated firmly. Ranboo nodded, not asking for further explanation. He knew. They steered their horses away from the plains, setting course for a forest adjacent to it.

“So, uh,” Ranboo began, clearing his throat. “How did you meet Tubbo…?”

Tommy smiled. “It’s a pretty funny story, actually. I found him in a box on the side of the road.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! This idiot got himself kicked out or something,” he turned to look at Tubbo, maybe give him a cheesy grin, only to find that he’d drifted back to sleep, his head resting on the back of Tommy’s coat. Tommy looked back up at Ranboo, who shrugged.

“I was gonna tell you, but he dozed off so fast I wasn’t sure if he was just messing with us,” he said, a small smile gracing his face.

“It’s alright. We’ll let him sleep.”  _ He deserves it _ , Tommy added silently.

“Anyways, so I come along, and I’m like, five years old, and there’s some fuckin’ kid my age just sitting in a box! So I was like, ‘what’s your name?’ and he said ‘Tubbo’, and I said ‘Wilbur! Come see this kid with a stupid name!’” They erupted into laughter, but quieted down again when they remembered Tubbo was asleep. Tommy continued, quieter this time, “we brought him to Phil, who basically immediately was like ‘great, another kid’, and then I had a third brother!” He gestured emphatically to Tubbo. “I’m stuck with him now.”

“That’s awesome,” Ranboo whispered, his eyes wide.

“Yeah. That’s like the third time I’ve told you that story,” Tommy snickered. Ranboo’s face dropped, sending Tommy into another fit of laughter.

“This is embarrassing,” Ranboo said, covering his face with a hand.

“Ohhh, man. ‘Memory boy’ is a pretty shit nickname, but it’s accurate.”

“Yeah. Hopefully I’ll get a better one soon.”

They crossed the boundary into the forest, guiding the horses in between trees. Some monster growled at them from the darkness, but they continued past, unbothered. They didn’t care about anything right now besides the journey, and more importantly, the freedom.

They continued on in silence for some time, weaving through trees, warding off monsters with the light of Tommy’s lantern. They munched on a few of Ranboo’s cookies and, through a series of exaggerated facial expressions and pointing, agreed that they were the best cookies either of them had ever had. They emerged from the forest into a mountainous area to find that the sun was beginning to rise.

“Someone’s noticed we’re gone by now, I reckon,” Tommy yawned. Maybe staying up all night hadn’t been the best decision, but he was going to try and power through it.

“Yeah. I wonder how Techno and Phil are doing,” Ranboo said, almost to himself. Tommy ignored it. He could think about those two when they got settled.

Their horses struggled up the mountain. Ranboo cooed softly to his, but also clung his arms around its neck for dear life. That made Tommy laugh a little, but then he remembered Tubbo could very well fall off right now, and made an effort to hold onto him as they made their way up.

When they reached the top of the mountain, the ground flattened out, and they were able to look out across the expanse before them. Mountains capped with white snow stretched for miles, surely full of rich minerals and resources. The plateau they stood on now dipped down into a valley. It was studded with colorful flowers, and sheep grazed about.

“Wow,” Ranboo whispered, getting off his horse. He looked relieved to touch the ground again. Tommy joined him, shaking Tubbo awake.

“Are we there?” Tubbo mumbled.

“Maybe,” Tommy said. “Help us decide.”

The three of them stood surveying the land before them, almost awestruck. They hadn’t seen such a perfect place untouched by anyone’s hand in a long time. It was incredible.

But...it wasn’t perfect.

“No,” Tommy said decidedly. “It’s too enclosed.”

“Yeah,” Ranboo agreed. They made eye contact for a moment, mutual understanding in their gaze, then broke it just as quickly.

“Let’s keep moving, then!” Tubbo exclaimed.

“Would you drive for a while, Tubbo?” Tommy asked as they got back on the horse. “I’m tired.”

“Sure,” Tubbo said. “Sorry I fell asleep so quickly. It was just...really cozy.”

“It’s alright, big man. You just owe me a nap now.”

As they set off again, Tommy swiftly discovered how it was so easy for Tubbo to fall asleep. The rhythmic motion of the horse’s movement could have lulled anyone to sleep. That, along with the warmth and peace he felt from being free with his friends, safely allowed Tommy to have the best nap he’d had in months.

He was awoken by soft discussion and waves on a shore.

“No, we have to leave them…”

Tommy opened his eyes to find he’d been placed on the ground, his coat beneath him to keep him off the sand. There were a few clouds in the sky, and the sun was high. He’d been sleeping for a few hours now.

As he sat up, he found the sources of the noise that had woken him up. They were on a beach, the horses milling about by the water. Tubbo and Ranboo were nearby, looking puzzled. Two boats and their packs lay on the ground in front of them.

“Tommy’s up,” Ranboo pointed out, and Tubbo turned to him immediately.

“Good! He can help us with this.” Tubbo gestured to the boats. “We’re gonna have to cross this ocean. Ranboo thinks we can put horses in boats.”

“What?” Tommy asked, standing with his coat and shaking the sand off of it. “You can’t put horses in boats.”

Ranboo sighed. “Okay. We’ll leave them here.” He cast a forlorn glance at the horses, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“You seemed pretty nervous riding one earlier,” Tommy remarked, beginning to pull one of the boats towards the water.

“Yeah, but they’re so gentle. I kind of like them,” Ranboo admitted. He pushed the other boat down the beach in tandem with Tommy. Tubbo supervised, picking up their bags and following them down.

“Mmm.” As the boat slipped into the water, a thought appeared in Tommy’s head. “You’ll be okay near the water, right?”

“Oh, yeah. As long as I don’t touch it. Actually, I should probably go ahead of you guys, just so the water from your oars doesn’t hit me.” Ranboo took his bag from Tubbo and placed it securely in the back of the boat. As he boarded, he turned back to them, and a touch of nervousness seeped its way into his voice. “I’ll see you guys on the other side?”

“You will,” Tubbo assured him. Ranboo nodded and took off from the shore, but not before casting a final glance over his shoulder at the horses.

“So,” Tommy began as they stepped into the boat. “Did you guys talk about me while I was asleep?”

“Not really, actually,” Tubbo responded. He sat down opposite Tommy, oars in hand.

“Yeah, right,” Tommy scoffed with a smile. He sat back, and, as Tubbo began to row, looked out at the land they were leaving behind. Wow, they had come a long way. He didn’t recognize this place at all.

“That bandana’s getting a little torn,” Tubbo said, pointing at the green cloth around Tommy’s neck. “I’ll have to make you a new one.”

“Oh, don’t do that. It’s special,” Tommy said, putting a hand on it almost self-consciously. It had been a gift from Tubbo months ago. In fact, now that Tommy thought about it, Tubbo had given him a lot of gifts. Maybe it was because he was good at sewing, like with the sleeves he’d made for the discs. Tommy resolved right there and then to make a gift for Tubbo when they got to their new home.

“Alright,” Tubbo acquiesced. “But  _ wash it _ , at least?”

“Fine.”

The opposite shore quickly came into view. Ranboo stood upon it, waving at them, jumping up and down excitedly. They rowed onto the beach, and Ranboo scrambled as close as he could without getting wet.

“This place is perfect,” he said breathlessly, extending a hand. “Come on.”

They disembarked from the boat, and Ranboo hurried them up the hill. When they crested it, he threw his arms out wide, displaying the land beyond to Tommy and Tubbo.

A forest stretched beneath them, full of animals they could hear chattering over the sound of waves on the shore. A little ways beyond the hill was a clearing. It had flowers growing everywhere within, and a small pond with crystal-clear water. Everything was so  _ vibrant _ . The scene was almost exactly what Tommy had imagined that night around the fire. It felt like it was made for them.

“Wow,” Tommy said. The wind was beginning to play with his hair, and it almost felt like a welcome. A “you’re supposed to be here”.

“Guys,” Tubbo began. With great effort to reach the heights of the other two boys, he reached up and threw an arm around each of their shoulders, drawing them in towards him. “I think this is it.”

“I think so too, Tubbo,” Tommy said, feeling the welcoming embrace of this new place in his very bones.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Go get our stuff! We’ve got a lot of work to do,” Tubbo grinned, and the welcome feeling clicked in Tommy’s head.  _ This is our home _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how good this chapter is or how happy I am with it ;-; but I hope you all enjoy! Yesterday (the 20th)'s events got me feeling some typa way about these three LMAOOO I love their characters so much


	3. Chapter 3

By the time they had finished, the sun was beginning to set over the tops of the trees, and their muscles ached from all the building they had done. The three of them stood in front of their newly-built home, admiring their handiwork. Tommy had insisted on using cobblestone, Ranboo had brought dark oak in his bag, and Tubbo had drawn up the plans whilst the other two squabbled about how big Tommy’s room could feasibly be without taking up the entire second floor. The result was a large house - a  _ home _ \- with three stories, a porch, a fireplace, three bedrooms, and, at Tubbo’s thoughtful insistence, glass barriers around all the potential water sources.

The three of them stood in silence for a minute, taking in the majesty they’d managed to construct in the span of a few hours. The windows gleamed with light from the sunset, and smoke from the fireplace was beginning to drift out of the chimney.

“Well,” Tommy spoke first, “it could’ve used a little more cobblestone.”

Tubbo elbowed him in the gut. They laughed together, then Tommy held out a hand on either of his sides. “Down low, boys.”

Ranboo and Tubbo obliged, high-fiving him. “I can’t believe I can fit through the doors of this place,” Ranboo remarked, his face splitting into one of those wide, slightly unsettling enderman smiles that, once you got over its oddness, contained genuine joy.

“Us tall folks got to stick together, right Ranboo?” Tommy put an arm around his shoulders, spinning the two of them around to face Tubbo. The shorter boy looked up at them dourly, and Tommy laughed.

“Well,” Tubbo began, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. “I bet you can’t beat me to the pond.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “That’s stupid. You know I can.”

“Oh,” Tubbo shrugged. “I’m sure. Then you wouldn’t mind proving it...unless you’re scared.” His eyes glinted in the sunlight.

“Scared? Do you know who you’re talking to, Tubbo? Tommy Innit, well-known non-pussy?” He withdrew his arm from Ranboo’s shoulders and strolled to Tubbo’s side, hands in his pockets. “You’re on.”

“Go!” Tubbo shouted, not even having the courtesy to grace Tommy with a countdown. They took off. Tommy overtook him quickly, sprinting ahead and skidding to a halt at the edge of the pond. He spun around to watch Tubbo catch up, maybe even taunt him a little. Instead, he was met with a force barrelling directly into his chest.

The two of them fell into the pond, a yelp tearing forth from Tommy’s throat that was silenced under the water.  _ Damnit, Tubbo,  _ was his first thought.  _ This is my only shirt _ .

He surfaced, sucking in a breath, and then looked for Tubbo. He was going to kill him. When he caught sight of the familiar brown hair breaking the surface of the water, he swam towards it and dunked him back underneath.

“Yeah, how do you like that, bitch!” he shouted. He shook some of the wet hair out of his eyes, swimming backwards. Tubbo surfaced again with a wide smile.

“I’m coming over, don’t splash me,” Ranboo called. He approached the pond, sitting a few feet away from its edge. Almost immediately, something about the ground captured his attention, and he dug both his hands into the earth, pulling out a clump of dirt and grass. He stared at it for a moment, transfixed, and then placed it down next to him. Seemingly satisfied, he turned back to the two in the pond.

“You are one weird guy, Ranboo,” Tommy commented. He settled in at the pond’s edge, at a point where the ground sloped like a natural seat. Tubbo found a similar spot on the opposite side and took up a post there.

“You’re right,” Ranboo agreed, stretching his long arms into the air. “This is a nice rest after all that building.”

Tommy was inclined to agree. Even though he’d done plenty of cardiovascular nonsense over the past few months (surprisingly, stabbing shit takes a lot of upper body strength), building an entire home in one afternoon had left him tired. In fact, the pond’s room-temperature water probably would have put him to sleep if Tubbo and Ranboo weren’t around.

“I can’t see any fish,” Tubbo complained, peering down into the water.

“They’re probably all hiding from Tommy,” Ranboo said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Tommy exclaimed, sending the three of them into another fit of laughter. Once again, Tommy felt that rare feeling of warmth surge in his chest. He was with his friends, and only his friends, and that was all he needed. It suddenly occurred to him he hadn’t thought about Dream once since they left the SMP lands. It was a good realization.

Tubbo disappeared under the water momentarily. When he emerged, he was holding a bucket full of water triumphantly, a wide grin on his face. “I got one!”

Tommy and Ranboo leaned forward and peered into the bucket Tubbo was proudly displaying. Inside, a gray fish darted about, seemingly unhappy about the small size of its container.

“Dinner,” Tommy quipped. Tubbo gave him a withering look.

“ _ Pet _ ,” he corrected. “What should we name her?”

“Coconut,” Ranboo suggested. He picked up another clump of grass from the ground absentmindedly and held it in his hands.

“What the hell is a coconut?” Tommy said. He didn’t wait for a response. “I think you should name it Tommy.”

“Dandelion,” Tubbo decided, placing the bucket next to Ranboo. “I’m going to make her an aquarium.”

Tommy sat back against the bank again. He silently lamented that his only clothes were now going to be wet, but that didn’t matter. He was with his boys! And if being with his boys called for getting his clothes wet, so be it.

Suddenly, Tommy remembered something Tubbo had said before they left. He hoisted himself out of the pond and ran across the grass (the lawn?) into the house, ignoring Tubbo’s questioning. He ascended the stairs to his room, unaware that he was getting water all over the floor.

His room was sparsely furnished; they still had work to do on the interior. A bed was tucked into the corner, and the waning sunlight filtered through the windows. The jukebox from the bench sat between two windows. That was the item Tommy was concerned with. He picked it up, then rifled through his still mostly-unpacked bag, selecting the blue sleeve from it.

He hurried back down to the pond, items in hand, trying not to get the disc wet.

“Oh, yeah!” Tubbo said eagerly when Tommy came running back outside. A quick settling of the jukebox and careful extraction of the disc from the sleeve later, the needle crackled softly on the disc, and music notes began to wash over the boys like waves on a shore.

“‘Wait’, huh? Good choice,” Ranboo remarked as Tommy slid back into his position in the pond.

“Yeah, it’s my favorite,” he said, placing interlaced hands behind his head and leaning back into the grass.

The three of them sat listening to the music for a time. Tubbo hummed along softly, and Tommy intermittently played percussion on the grass. When the disc spun to a halt, Ranboo lifted the needle gently and started it again.

_ We’re free _ , Tommy mused as he gazed at the darkening horizon. It had taken them months of strife, and enough hardship to last several lifetimes, but they were finally free. There would be no more days where nightmares scared him and Tubbo out of falling asleep, the two of them ending up playing card games in Tommy’s room to try and keep themselves awake. No more seeing Ranboo with darting eyes and a lashing tail, as if something would jump out at him at any second. They still had to recover, certainly. And something in Tommy’s mind still itched with the notion that something was still wrong, that this temporary happiness wouldn’t last. But he waved it off. No more despair.

“We’re free,” Tommy spoke aloud. The other two boys nodded, and he continued, “It’s just us, now.” He paused. “Let’s all say who we  _ won’t _ miss the most.”

“Dream,” Ranboo said immediately. Tommy glanced at him, a question in his gaze, one that went unanswered by way of Ranboo avoiding his eyes. Of course, Ranboo always avoided eyes, but this time it was more intentional, more conscious.

“I was gonna say Dream too,” Tommy said obviously.

“Schlatt,” Tubbo muttered. When Tommy looked at him for explanation, none was provided.

“Schlatt’s dead,” he pointed out.

“I know. I just...didn’t like feeling his presence all the time.”

Tommy gave him an odd look. He didn’t like what that meant, though he’d certainly heard similar words from Tubbo before. Hushed words, spoken between choked post-nightmare sobs that revealed how afraid he had been of  _ becoming Schlatt _ .

“Well, I won’t miss him either, then,” Tommy proclaimed, playfully splashing a little water in Tubbo’s direction. “And if I ever see a horned sheep out here, ohhh, I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but it won’t be good.” He grinned, and Tubbo did too, pulled out of his momentary melancholy.

There was silence for a moment, save for the final notes of Wait from the jukebox. When it ended, Ranboo spoke. “Should we get inside before monsters show up?”

“Good idea,” Tubbo said, standing from the pond and picking up the bucket that held Dandelion the fish. “I have to make her an aquarium,” he added, mostly to himself.

“Yeah. I’m hungry,” Tommy said, wringing the water out of his hair as he got out of the pond. “And I think Tubbo and I should sit by the fire for a while and dry off...Ranboo?”

Ranboo sighed, and Tommy reckoned that if he had eyelids, he would have closed them in disappointment. “Fine, I’ll make dinner. But this better not become a regular thing,” he said sternly, but with a smile on his lips.

“Oh, Ranboo, we wouldn’t dream of it!” Tommy promised, practically skipping towards the house.

“But if you lose game night tonight, you  _ will _ be designated official chef,” Tubbo added, then made a break for the house. “Go, go, Tommy, before he can ask questions!”

The two of them fled inside, snickering the whole way, ignoring their friend’s impassioned yet light-hearted protests.

It was going to be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is a little shorter, but I wanted to get it out before I start working on the next few!! They're going to be HealingTM in the next few chapters, I promise :]  
> If you enjoyed, I'm really glad! If you want to leave a comment, feel free to, as knowing what people like really does inspire me.  
> I can't wait to write more with these guys. Their friendship is just so great, man.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks! I think this is my longest chapter yet, so I hope you enjoy! I really liked writing from Ranboo's point of view, though I think I might've butchered it a little. Oh well. Can't be perfect.  
> TW for hallucinations, kind of manipulation, and some violence, though nothing graphic.

Ranboo stared ahead blankly, wishing he could shut his eyes. It would make meditation a lot easier. Usually, he was thankful for his lack of eyelids - he found them useless, and frankly boring. But it was difficult to let your mind go blank when you had to keep staring at your surroundings.

He sat in the middle of a few especially tall trees, an area that he had staked out a few days after they built their home. Tubbo was taking up painting, Tommy had begun to conspicuously sneak needles and thread up to his room, and Ranboo decided to start meditating. And so he’d constructed a roof up in the branches of the trees to keep the area from getting rained on, placed a few pillows and planted some flowers, and began to meditate.

It had taken some getting used to, of course. His mind was always racing, maybe trying to remember something from earlier, or urging him to pick up a piece of the ground. He usually just blamed it on his enderman half, but the truth was it was just  _ him _ . He was always thinking.

But, more importantly, it was incredible to be in a place by himself, a place he found  _ comforting _ , and not hear Dream’s voice. The voice had infested his mind almost since the day he met Dream. At first, it was small things. Seeing a smiley face here, hearing Dream’s disappointing ‘hm’ there. But it had escalated in his panic room to a full-blown  _ prophet _ of sorts, and Ranboo had begun to wonder what was wrong with him. Finding one of Tommy’s discs after the voice told him about it had almost broken him.

But the fact Ranboo hadn’t heard the voice since he had left the SMP was reassuring. It meant that Dream hadn’t  _ really _ been invading his mind, and Ranboo was just playing tricks on himself. It was a nice reminder that Dream (probably) wasn’t a god.

Tommy and Tubbo had reported similar outcomes over the week or so they’d been here, but they weren’t always telling the truth. Tommy promised his nightmares were gone, though the very same night Ranboo and Tubbo had to stick around in his room for an hour after he woke up screaming. Tubbo said Schlatt’s influence didn’t bother him anymore, though Ranboo saw him on more than one occasion scratching doggedly at the top of his head in the mirror, as if he expected horns to sprout at any minute. And Ranboo, for his part, pretended he wasn’t terrified of losing his memory book again, though he kept an iron grip on it wherever he went.

Not that Ranboo was complaining. He was fine to help Tommy and Tubbo with their trauma. In fact, he wanted to help them more than anything. They were his friends - his  _ best _ friends - and he wanted them to be happy again no matter what the cost. But he feared, deep down, that he never would, that there would always be some small possibility of the voice coming back.

“Chekhov’s gun.”

Ranboo froze. Well, he had already been stationary, but his mind froze.

“You should know about that by now. Though I don’t blame you if you don’t. You weren’t around for Wilbur.”

A chill ran up Ranboo’s spine, crawled onto his shoulders, and made its home in his throat. He wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t move.

“Poor bastard was always ranting about Chekhov’s gun this, Chekhov’s gun that. You know what that is, right, Ranboo?” The voice was sickeningly smooth, as it always was. It was a voice that made Ranboo’s speech slip into Enderman gibberish, made him teleport erratically, made his hands itch to pick up a block, any block, to feel better-

“It means when a story sets something up, that thing will eventually happen. Crazy how you think of me, and then I…” something moved in the sight of Ranboo’s unblinking eyes. It was a man, in a horrifyingly green hoodie, with a porcelain white mask. He looked at Ranboo, and fired a finger gun at him. “Show up.”

Ranboo screamed. It was a loud, bloodcurdling enderman shriek, and it went on for a good five seconds, all pure terror and despair.

His vision went dark, and he saw black walls, blacker than night,  _ obsidian _ . It was surrounding him and trapping him. He wished he could shut his eyes. He was in a tailspin, and he couldn’t do anything about it; Dream’s voice had totally disarmed him. He was falling to the earth with broken elytras, and the ground rushed up to meet him, and-

“What’s wrong with you?” Dream’s voice shattered the illusion, and Ranboo’s vision returned. Dream was standing in front of him now, hands in his pockets, two netherite swords strapped to his back. The mask covered his face, but Ranboo could tell he was frowning underneath it.

“Leave me alone,” Ranboo muttered weakly. His hands were trembling.

“What?” Dream asked incredulously. “Why would I do that? We’ve been apart for so long now.” He sat down next to Ranboo, on one of the pillows Tubbo had helped make for his meditation. “I can’t leave you  _ now _ .”

“I didn’t want you back. We ran aw*#@-” he slipped into Enderman tongue by accident. With some effort, he continued, “- _ away _ for a reason.” Ranboo couldn’t bring himself to move, but one of his hands twitched towards the iron dagger he kept on him for self-defense. He was too much of a coward to use it, and Dream knew that. And so he just sat there shaking, feeling every ounce of helplessness that coursed through his veins.

“Mmmm. You did,” Dream said matter-of-factly. “You did want me back. I helped you.”

If Ranboo hadn’t been so paralyzed, he would have scoffed. “Helped me?”

“Yes. I told you things you never would have known otherwise. Things you had  _ forgotten _ .” That last word was like a sword to the chest. The blackouts. All those times he could have possibly done heinous things, and he would be none the wiser when he came to again.

“No. I  _ don’t _ want to hear from you again. Pl$@!%- please leave,” Ranboo begged, fixing his eyes on his shaking hands and trying to ignore Dream. Maybe if he just pretended he wasn’t there, he would disappear.

“I think I’ll stay,” Dream decided, standing. Ranboo heard his footsteps on the grass, but didn’t look up to see what he was doing. “It was stupid to run away, you know. The Dream SMP is  _ safe _ . There’s no telling what might befall you out here.”

“Safe? What about that place was  _ safe _ ?” He finally looked up. Even though they weren’t real eyes, he still couldn’t look into the dead dots on that white mask. They unsettled him even more than real eye contact did, and that was saying something. The ugly smile on it sneered at him mockingly.

“I mean, you haven’t died once,” Dream pointed out. “I’d say that’s pretty safe. For you, at least. Unless you’d forgotten that fact.”

Words of hatred died on Ranboo’s lips, unable to make themselves a reality. Because Dream was  _ right _ . Ranboo’s memory made him useless and rendered him harmless. He’d never been attacked like Tommy or Tubbo because he wasn’t a threat. Every impassioned speech he’d made about loyalty and people - nobody had paid attention, because it was just Ranboo, the misguided, stupid kid with memory issues. He held back the tears welling up in his eyes, partly because he didn’t want them to burn his skin, and partly because if he cried in front of Dream, he’d only be confirming that weak perception.

But it was too late. Dream stooped and peered at Ranboo, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “How much have you forgotten, Ranboo? ...Did you forget that Tommy told you he never wanted to see you again? Did you forget that Tubbo saw you as nothing but a traitor?”

Ranboo shook his head, fighting back the darkness that encroached on the edges of his vision. “You’re wrong. They didn’t say any of that.”

“They did.” Dream stood, and when he did, Ranboo glimpsed a jukebox behind him that hadn’t been there before. He hadn’t seen Dream place it.

Dream flicked his hand, like a magician doing a card trick, like all of this was just some light-hearted game for him. A disc appeared in it, with a violet and white ring in the center -  _ Mellohi _ .

As the needle crackled on the disc and the opening notes began, Ranboo was filled with nothing but dread. He’d come to associate the song with Dream, and when Tommy gave up hunting for it, it had been a peaceful thought that Ranboo would never have to listen to it again. But here he was, and it was playing. It was playing just for Ranboo, and the universe laughed at him.

Or maybe that was just Dream laughing. Same thing, basically.

“You’ll never  _ really _ be rid of me, Ranboo,” Dream hissed, strolling around the area and positioning himself behind Ranboo. “You’ll never be ‘independent’.  _ I  _ control this server, and I control everyone in it.” Ranboo stared ahead, his vision blurring with tears. “You had your fun playing make-believe out here in the woods, living out your fantasies. But one day, when you least expect it, I’m going to find you again. And until then, I’ll be taking up space in your head. Maybe I’ll live in the section where your memories are supposed to be.”

“Stop it,” Ranboo whispered. His hand inched its way towards the dagger strapped to his waist.

Dream must have noticed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Wouldn’t want Tommy and Tubbo to find you out here with blood on your hands, would you?” He paused. “If they’re even around to find you at all.”

“What?” Ranboo turned and looked directly into the cold black dots of Dream’s mask. They stared back harshly. Ranboo’s heart pounded louder than the music notes as he stood, and if he had been thinking more clearly, he might have noted how much he towered over Dream. But the only thing on his mind right now was his friends.

Dream shrugged. “Maybe they left. Maybe I took them. But T-”

There was a dagger in Dream’s stomach.

No blood poured forth. But there was a scream, and it took a few moments for Ranboo to realize it was his own.

The unflinching eyes of Dream’s mask were burned into his vision, and he could still hear the ending notes to Mellohi, muted under the deafening roar of his thoughts. They weren’t thoughts so much as they were feelings and colors, anger and green, black and white and desperation, and Ranboo was in the middle of it all, a coward.

“Ranboo? Ranboo?”

Ranboo hadn’t recognized the feeling of grass on his cheek until he heard the soft, quick footsteps of his best friends and felt a hand on his shoulder. Slowly, the image of Dream’s mask faded, and he was looking up at Tommy and Tubbo’s concerned faces. Ranboo exhaled in relief. They were okay.

“Are you alright?” Tubbo asked. “We heard you screaming.”

“...yeah. I am now, at least,” Ranboo said, sitting up and rubbing his face. “I just, uh…” he swallowed, unsure how to explain.

“Take your time, big man,” Tubbo reassured him, making a point to look away from his eyes. When Tommy noticed him doing so, he followed suit. Ranboo smiled a little, in spite of everything he’d just been through.

“I was seeing things,” he explained. That was all he had planned on saying, but once he opened his mouth, the words just kept coming. “Back in the SMP, I used to hear Dream’s voice in my head, and I hadn’t since we left, but then he just showed up  _ here _ , and this time it was actually him and I didn’t know what to do, and he said you guys were gone and…” he hesitated, trying not to let tears well up again. “I think I blacked out. I don’t remember what I did, but he’s gone.”

Tommy and Tubbo’s eyes had gotten wider with every word, and at the end they exchanged a glance, that kind of silent communication you only saw between brothers who’d been at each other’s side for years.

Ranboo’s hands twitched, and he plunged them into the ground, picking up a clump of dirt and grass. It made a little bit of the weight on his shoulders disappear.

“Well, that green fuck better not be anywhere where I can get my hands on him,” Tommy proudly declared, though there was genuine concern for Ranboo behind the assertion. “If you see him again, tell him to find me, and I’ll rock his shit. Tubbo taught me that one,” he added.

“Yeah! He can’t touch us anymore...right?” Tubbo said, the statement becoming a question at the very end. The three of them nodded at each other in agreement, though none of them could really be sure.

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking, reflecting. Ranboo thought about his friends and how much they meant to him, and tried his hardest not to think about Dream. It was difficult. He still saw that repulsive smiley face when he blinked, and suspected the afterimage would remain for quite some time.

“I have an idea,” Tubbo piped up after a moment. “Ranboo, what say we head back home, and we’ll help you bake something?”

A smile formed on Ranboo’s face, and he noted with joy that neither of his friends recoiled at the bizarre sight of his enderman half splitting in two anymore. Baking was nice. Baking was calming, and it didn’t involve Dream at all. Baking was something Ranboo could do  _ right _ .

“Great idea. I’m in the mood for some sweet shit,” Tommy said, standing and offering a hand to Ranboo. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide. “Tubbo, should we…?”

“Hm?” Tubbo glanced up at Tommy. After a moment, his eyes grew just as wide. “Oh, yeah!” He turned back to Ranboo and cleared his throat. With a bow, he proclaimed, “Ranboo M. Beloved, we, Tommy Innit and Tubbo Underscore, have decided to formally induct you into our secret handshake, that you may be included in it henceforth, and always and forever, amen.”

Ranboo’s smile only got wider. “Really?!”

“Yes, really. We’ll teach you on the way there. Let’s go,” Tommy said, turning to leave. “So slow, you people. God.”

The kitchen was abustle with the most noise it had been in the week of its existence, given how Ranboo was usually the only one cooking. Tommy scrubbed impatiently at utensils in the sink, mumbling something about how it was Tubbo’s turn for dish duty. Tubbo was gently removing cookies from the baking sheet and onto the cooling rack, peering at them intently.

Ranboo watched over Tubbo’s shoulder, examining the cookies. They had used far too much sugar, he noted, and Tommy’s insistence that ‘you can never snack on too many chocolate chips’ had resulted in a scarcity of chocolate. But he wasn’t going to tell them that. In fact, in Ranboo’s eyes, these were the most perfect cookies he had ever helped to bake.

“Well, Ranboo?” Tubbo asked, eyes gleaming as he looked up at the much-taller boy. “Can we eat them now?”

“Yeah,” Tommy added, joining them from the sink. “It’s so much  _ waiting _ .”

“Hmmm,” Ranboo said, pretending to think for a moment. When he saw Tommy open his mouth to complain again, he cut him off. “Yeah, they’re ready.”

Tubbo and Tommy immediately snatched cookies off of the cooling rack, and Ranboo opened the icebox and retrieved a bottle of milk. As he poured a glass for each of them, he asked, “How are they?”

“Ranboo,” Tommy muttered around the cookie, “this might be - and I don’t say this lightly, so take note - this might be the best cookie I have ever had.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo agreed. “Better than Niki’s bakery!”

“It’s better because you made them,” Ranboo remarked, setting the glasses next to the other two. “That’s the first lesson of baking.”

“I thought you said the first lesson was ‘don’t let Tommy measure the ingredients’?” Tubbo asked, and was swiftly smacked on the arm by Tommy.

“Second lesson, then,” Ranboo amended. “Does this call for a secret handshake?”

“Nothing has ever called more for a secret handshake,” Tommy said. “In position, boys.”

The details of the secret handshake will not be disclosed here, as it was a highly personal and ultimately kind of stupid routine, but it was one that they enjoyed to the very core of their beings. United in handshakes, cookies, and friendship, the boys closed out the handshake with a ‘Go team!’ (followed shortly by Tubbo insisting they come up with a better end phrase) and a warm feeling in all of their bodies that smothered any uncertainties, at least for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the love on this fic so far, it's my first one I've ever posted anywhere and the reception has been really encouraging! Please leave a comment if you want telling me what you enjoyed, as it really inspires me to keep going! Don't feel obligated to, of course. Ultimately, thank you for just reading it :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again folks :0 First of all I want to say thank you for all the support I've received on this, it's very encouraging to get on my first work!  
> This chapter was pretty fun to write. Scholar Tubbo real because I said so, and because ever since I read about him archiving the history of L'manburg I haven't stopped thinking about it LMFAO

_ “Hey, kid! Where’ve you been all day?” _

Tubbo opened his eyes blearily, trying to keep a grasp on the dream he had just been having before it slipped away. The early morning light happened to hit him square in the face where he lay on the floor of Tommy’s room, arms flung above his head in a way that he was sure would give him neck pain when he moved. Why was he on Tommy’s floor again? What was that dream about?

The answers, with some effort, came to Tubbo as he waded through the early morning haze of his mind. Tommy had screamed in the middle of the night last night, so Tubbo and Ranboo had slept nearby, despite Tommy’s insistence that he was ‘okay’ and ‘not a pussy’.

The dream, he was pretty sure, had been a memory. He remembered seeing the red tie around his neck, the Manburg uniform standard, and the air had smelled like smoke and alcohol. And that voice … it took him a moment to place it, but Tubbo was pretty sure it had been Schlatt speaking.

The gruff voice and the imposing man it belonged to had made more appearances in Tubbo’s dreams than he would like to admit. Weeks spent as his assistant had taken a toll on him, no matter how much he told himself otherwise. It stumped Tubbo. He wasn’t President of L’manburg anymore, hell, he wasn’t even near L’manburg. So what was the deal?

Slowly, Tubbo stood from where he lay on the floor, wrapping his blanket tightly around his shoulders. Tommy was fast asleep where he had been sandwiched between Ranboo and Tubbo, his hand laying protectively over the bandana around his neck, and Ranboo lay face-down in his pillow, probably sleeping with his eyes open again. When Tommy had asked them to leave last night, they had refused, and Tubbo laying down on the bed for a millisecond was taken as a declaration of war. It was a war that Ranboo and Tubbo eventually won, bringing Tommy down to the floor with them and making it clear they would not be leaving. After a series of ‘I hate you guys’s and ‘Okay Tommy’s they had all eventually drifted off to sleep. It brought a smile to Tubbo’s face, and his friends looked so peaceful on the floor that, for a moment, it distracted him from the dream he’d had.

Then it returned, and Tubbo’s smile faded. He eased his way out of the room, careful not to make any noise that might disturb the other boys. When the door shut behind him, he padded down the hallway, passing the open doors to his and Ranboo’s rooms. He reached the double doors at the end of the hall and opened them gently, stepping through and shading his eyes at the sunlight that hit him in the face.

The library had been snuck into the building plans by Tubbo himself, knowing Tommy would object to it if he brought it up to the group. Ranboo had rejoiced when Tubbo told him about it, leaving for a nearby village the very next day to trade for books. It was one of the largest rooms in their home, with tall bookshelves and taller ceilings. It also boasted an incredible amount of windows, which Tubbo silently began to regret as the rising sun shone directly into his face.

He crossed the room to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and peered down at the ground outside. By design, he had placed the beehives below so he could watch them from the library. The bees were beginning to wake up now, and they buzzed out of their hives in small groups, off to find pollen for the day. Tubbo smiled, then turned back to the library, facing away from the harsh sun.

There had to be something in here, he reasoned. He hadn’t yet catalogued all the books Ranboo had lugged back from the village in droves, and one of them had to have  _ something _ on why he felt so odd. He started perusing the shelves, abandoning his blanket on one of the tables.

_ Enchantment and You: 101 Ways To Improve Your Weapons _ . No.

_ A Tale of Two Cities _ . No, although Ranboo might enjoy that one. Tubbo made a mental note to tell him about it later.

_ How to Stop Worrying and Enjoy Yourself _ . Bingo.

Tubbo picked that book up and continued down along the shelves, looking for more. By the time he reached the end of the shelf, he had accrued four other books, and he returned to the table where he’d left the blanket to settle in for some reading.

For Tubbo, books held answers. They always had. When he was younger, he would sneak into the massive library of his home after dark with Tommy to read by candlelight (though Tommy always ended up falling asleep after a few minutes). He’d catalogued the history of L’manburg during Schlatt’s presidency, and during his own, he’d sought leadership advice in the archives of Ghostbur’s library, though those books were always damp and of little substance.

So it was no surprise to anyone that, when he wanted answers, he engrossed himself in books. He leaned forward in the chair and opened the first book, flipping through to the table of contents to find something helpful, and began to read.

After what felt like only half an hour, there was a knock at the door of the library.

“Come in!” Tubbo called, just finishing up his fifth and final book. He was surrounded by parchment and pens, and notes on each book had been scrawled in his messy script. Tubbo thought, if he had glasses, he might look rather like a professor of some kind right now.

The door swung open, and Ranboo and Tommy stood on the other side. Ranboo’s eyebrows were knitted together in mild concern, and Tommy’s eyes widened.

“What the fuck!? You guys never told me about this place!”  Tommy charged through the door, staring up at the bookshelves in awe.

“You never came to look at it,” Tubbo pointed out, closing the book.

“Yeah, because you guys told me it was a ‘study’, and my brain immediately shut down because I knew it would be boring. Which it is. Who would even want to read all these books?” Tommy’s eyes fell on Tubbo, and he gaped. “You woke up early to  _ read _ ?!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo gestured to the chairs across the table from him. “Sit down, I gotta talk to you guys.”

As Ranboo squeezed into the chair directly across from Tubbo, he said, “We were worried when you didn’t show up for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Tubbo looked down at his watch. Three hours had passed. “Holy shit! I seriously thought it had been minutes!”

“What is this?” Tommy asked, picking up one of the books. “ _ On Dealing with Grief _ ? ...Tubbo, nobody’s died.” He gave Tubbo a pointed look, tapping the cover of the book.

“I know. I just read it in case. That’s not my final conclusion.” Tubbo gathered up his notes, shuffling through them until he found the one he had been especially interested in. He glanced up at the other two boys, who were looking at him intently. “I’ve been feeling wrong lately. Like, everything’s supposed to be okay out here, but I just don’t feel it. I’m on edge, and it’s still hard to sleep some nights. I still feel like I’m President, you know?” He cleared his throat a little, then tapped the paper he held on the top of the stack. “I did some reading, and I think the answer is ghosts.”

Tommy burst into laughter.

Tubbo frowned at him. “I’m serious, Tommy. This book - something  _ Paranormal _ something - lists all the signs of being haunted by a ghost. It’s the perfect explanation for what’s going on!”

“What ghost, Tubbo?” Ranboo tried, though he clearly didn’t believe it either.

“Schlatt,” Tubbo muttered, and the other two’s faces fell. They knew how hung up he was on those days under Schlatt’s rule. Tubbo hated it, hated being hung up on things. He preferred to just move on and pretend everything was alright. But something about Schlatt had stuck.

“He didn’t become a ghost,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. “And we’ve seen ghosts before. I haven’t seen Schlatt once.”

“Maybe he’s hiding,” Tubbo countered. “The book said they do that sometimes. ...Here, look at the symptoms.” He turned the paper around so they could read it, and pointed at the list he’d written down.”’Chills, uneasiness, dread, inexplicable spells of sadness’ ... all the things I’ve been feeling for a while now.” He placed the paper down on the table, shifting in his seat. “Since Schlatt died.”

There was silence in the library for a minute as the other two boys thought about this.

“You know, Tubbo,” Ranboo began, speaking slowly. “I’ve been feeling like that too. And I never … knew Schlatt.”

“What?” Tubbo frowned. There went his hypothesis.

“...Yeah,” Tommy added reluctantly. “I’m a little on edge, too. Nothing I can’t handle, obviously, but it’s … you know.”

Tubbo looked down at his papers almost disapprovingly. He slid them away from him, wracking his brain. What else could it be, then? Ghosts had seemed like the perfect reason.

“I, uh,” Ranboo broke the silence. “I think it’s because … I feel like this won’t last. After I saw Dream the other day, I’ve just been even more worried he’ll come back. Dude is…” he laughed a little. “Dude leaves an impression.”

“Yeah, he’s a bitch,” Tommy concurred. “Hate him.”

“Like this won’t last…” Tubbo repeated, processing the words. Maybe that was it. Every time things had seemed good for them, they had been ripped away from it, thrown back into tumultuous war and conflict. He couldn’t remember the last time there had been a breather. For months now, there hadn’t been a moment where they could just sit down and  _ relax _ .

“That’s it,” he said with a nod. “It’s like it won’t last for us. I mean, when has anything? Dream, Schlatt, Wilbur … you know. It’s always been bad.” He shook his head, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “So that’s what’s been haunting me.”

“Me too,” Ranboo agreed, and Tommy offered a silent nod. “But I think we’ll be okay. It’s irrational, right? Like when you know there’s nothing in your closet, but you still shut it just in case?”

“Are you afraid of the dark, Ranboo?” Tommy jumped at the opportunity, jabbing Ranboo in the side.

“No!” Ranboo said, suddenly defensive. “It’s just a little freaky, that’s all.”

“You’re afraid of the dark,” Tommy decided. He paused, searching for a way to continue the bit, and suddenly his eyes lit up. “I just remembered something.” He stood and raced out of the library, shouting, “Don’t move, I’m coming right back!” over his shoulder.

“Okay!” Ranboo called after him, then turned back to Tubbo. His eyes were kind, and he leaned forward and placed a hand on top of Tubbo’s. “We’re all feeling uneasy. I think it’s just part of healing,” he whispered, his voice low. “We’re just realizing we don’t have to be on the run all the time, right?”

Tubbo nodded. “Right. You’re so smart, Ranboo.”

“I guess you could say I… pick up a few things.” Ranboo laughed at his own joke, leaning back in his chair. It took Tubbo a moment to get it, but pretty soon he was laughing too.

“Are you guys laughing at me?” Tommy asked as he reentered the room, holding something behind his back. “I can’t believe this. After all I’ve do-”

“Not everything’s about you, Tommy,” Tubbo rolled his eyes with a smile. “What did you get?”

Tommy broke out into a wide grin and made his way to the side of the table, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “So, Tubbo, remember how I asked for one of your shirts yesterday, and you said ‘Tommy that’s weird’, and I said ‘just do it’, and you said ‘how come you only have one shirt, by the way’, and I told you to mind your goddamn business?”

Tubbo did remember.

“Well, that was for this,” Tommy’s smile somehow got wider as he held one hand out to Tubbo, a sloppily-folded green shirt in his grasp.

Tubbo took it and glanced over it, trying to see what had changed.

“The sleeve,” Tommy supplied helpfully.

Tubbo turned one of the sleeves over. On the upper arm was a messily embroidered bumblebee that smiled back at Tubbo. It was vibrant shades of yellow, white, and brown string. It was like a kid’s drawing, and it was the best present Tubbo had ever received. He almost teared up a little looking at it. “Thank you, Tommy,” he whispered, unable to voice anything more than that quite yet.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Tommy dismissed, then turned to Ranboo. “I got you something too! Sorry I didn’t ask before borrowing this, though.” He handed Ranboo his suit jacket.

“Oh, yeah, I was wondering where this went.” Ranboo examined it for a moment, then gasped with delight. He turned the suit jacket around so Tubbo could see, one outstretched white finger pointing at the lapel. “Look at that!”

Tubbo squinted. A purple flower was embroidered on the lapel, an allium from the looks of it.

“Do you like it?” Tommy asked somewhat sheepishly, still grinning.

“It’s amazing, Tommy,” Ranboo said, admiring it, his face half-split into an enderman smile. “Is this because I told you it was my favorite flower?”

“No, I just picked a random one,” Tommy covered badly. “I’m glad you guys like them.”

“Hey, you don’t get out of here that easily,” Tubbo said, standing. He made his way around the table and pulled Tommy into a hug, beckoning for Ranboo to join them amidst Tommy’s squawks of objection. He did, his long arms fitting around the both of them easily.

“You guys are being annoying,” Tommy protested. “It’s just a shitty embroidery.”

“It is  _ the _ best embroidery I’ve ever seen,” Tubbo returned, squeezing him a little tighter. “And we aren’t letting go until you know that.”

“Oh my God- okay, it’s good. It’s a good gift and I’m incredibly thoughtful and better at gift-giving than you guys. Please let me go.”

They released him, and he scowled at them, though his eyes sparkled with joy. “Great talk today. I’ve got to go be places that are cooler than a library.” With that, Tommy rushed out of the double doors and down the hall, his socked feet thudding on the floorboards.

“That was an incredibly Tommy way to give a gift,” Ranboo remarked.

“Yeah,” Tubbo said, looking down at the shirt in his hands. He looked up at the table, where his scattered notes and books and pen still lay, still a little upset ‘ghosts’ wasn’t the answer. It would’ve been an easier one to work through, that’s for sure.

“Hey,” Ranboo said, noticing Tubbo’s slightly dispirited face. “How about we get you some breakfast?”

Tubbo smiled. “Pancakes?”

“I can do pancakes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! As always feel free to leave a comment telling me what you enjoyed, because getting them is always encouraging, but don't feel obligated to! Next chapter will probably be out sometime soon, and it will probably be the last one unless my desire for more of these three getting therapy is strong enough to make me think of more. I'll be writing more stuff after that for sure, though, so stick around if you want to see that :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter for this one, folks :0 Thank you for your continued support, it's been amazing! I'll be making more stuff for sure, though, so if you like my writing, check back in a few days and I might have something new out!  
> TWs this chapter for flashbacks(?) and a panic attack.

_ Clang! _

The sound of the dinner bell ringing throughout the house was the only thing that managed to make Tommy look up from his work. He abandoned the fabric he had been sewing away at - he was tired of Tubbo poking fun at him for only having one shirt - and scrambled to his feet, racing out the door of his room. Tubbo was already halfway down the stairs. Tommy chased after him, determined to be first in the kitchen, but it was a futile effort. He arrived a second after Tubbo, the two of them a little winded, to see Ranboo sitting down to the table with a large spread of food.

“You guys are gonna hurt yourselves doing that one day,” he commented, breaking off a piece from a loaf of bread.

“It would be worth it if I still beat Tommy,” Tubbo breathed, sitting down at his place.

“Yeah, yeah, dickhead,” Tommy punched him lightly in the arm as he passed, his eyes roaming over the food set out. “This is a lot of food, Ranboo.”

Ranboo shrugged. “I’ve had time to prepare,” he said around a mouthful of bread. He’d been stuck inside for the past day, avoiding the rainfall.

Even though Tubbo had offered to make him some armor so he could venture outdoors, Ranboo waved him off, insisting he actually liked being inside (he’d begun to wear T-shirts, anyway, and said he’d look rather stupid wearing armor over a T-shirt. Tommy took offense to this). None of them really wore armor anymore. Tommy even found it uncomfortable at times. It was too much of a reminder of the violence and war that they had left behind.

“It’s great.” Tubbo pointed with his fork, a piece of steak speared on the end. “Is there honey in this?”

“Yep! A light glaze, I think it’s called. Is it good?”

“It’s wonderful.”

Tommy started in on some potatoes. Generally, he didn’t like potatoes - Technoblade’s were always bland and dry, and had soured his perception of the vegetable - but Ranboo was actually a good chef. Tommy said a silent thank-you to the universe for that one, recalling the time he and Tubbo almost burned down Niki’s bakery trying to make a birthday cake. Their cooking efforts probably would have been just as disastrous.

“What are we doing tonight?” Tubbo asked, already on his second piece of bread.

“Same thing we do every night. Play board games until I win and you get upset,” Tommy grinned at him.

“Oh, yeah. Hey, was it me or you who lost an entire guitar betting on that Monopoly game?” Tubbo fired back.

“It was  _ one time _ !”

The three of them burst into quiet laughter. When it died down, and the clinking of silverware on plates began again, Ranboo cleared his throat. “I was thinking we could go stargazing,” he said, folding his hands together in front of him. “The clouds are disappearing.  _ And _ there’s no buildings out here to get in our way!”

“Sounds good to me,” Tubbo said, glancing over at Tommy.

“I’m in,” Tommy agreed, looking down at his plate. He’d been stargazing before, with Wilbur as a kid and Tubbo later on, but now they mainly reminded him of Logstedshire. He’d spent many a sleepless night there staring up at the stars, his mind abound with negative thoughts and feelings.

Tommy brushed that off. This would be different. He’d probably be able to enjoy the stars this time. Hopefully.

“Careful,” Ranboo advised as they climbed up the hill. It wasn’t all that steep, but Ranboo was a bit of a worrier, so Tommy held back a snarky retort. It was a nice feeling, being outside with his friends and a stomach full of good food, not having to worry about countries or politics. It was a feeling Tommy had been consumed by recently. Everything, for the most part, was just  _ good _ .

At the top of the hill, Tubbo unrolled the blanket he had tucked under his arm. It fluttered to the ground, covering the still somewhat-damp grass, and he gestured to it with a bow.

“Thank you, thank you,” Ranboo returned the bow and sat down. The other two joined him, and the three of them laid back on the blanket, although not without some squabbling from Tommy and Tubbo about personal space.

“That’s the Northern Star, right?” Tubbo asked first, pointing at the brightest star in the sky.

“I think so.” Tommy squinted at the sky, trying to discern Ursa Minor in its surroundings. He struggled to come up with which stars were connected to it, digging through his memories for what he remembered Wilbur teaching him. The only other constellation he knew by heart, Aries, was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Tubbo, you remember Wilbur taking us onto the roof to look at the stars when we were kids?” He turned his head to look at Tubbo, who looked back at him with wide eyes.

“I  _ do  _ remember that, yeah! He really knew a lot about stars,” Tubbo gushed, looking back up at the sky. “Ranboo, Wilbur had, like, a whole book of maps about the sky. He used to show us all the different patterns and stuff. Even Phil couldn’t shut him up sometimes,” he giggled.

“Now  _ that’s _ dedication,” Ranboo remarked. “I think they kind of look like me.”

“...What?” Tommy propped himself up on an elbow to look at Ranboo.

“Yeah. See?” Ranboo pointed at the darker side of his face, at small, slightly luminous white specks on his cheek that Tommy had never noticed before.

“Woah!” Tubbo exclaimed, sitting up way too fast, almost hitting Tommy in the process. “Those are so cool!”

“I’m like an alien or something!” Ranboo laughed, throwing his head back.

Tommy laid back on the blanket, gazing up at the sky as the two of them chattered. Though it was warm out, a chill breeze was beginning to blow across the water in front of them. Tubbo and Ranboo’s voices were slowly lost in the background as small waves hit the shore. Tommy began to shiver a little.

Staring up at the stars, in the cold, with water flowing nearby, a profound sadness struck Tommy. Loneliness swelled somewhere in his gut, and that good feeling of camaraderie and joy dissipated into nothingness. For a moment, he was dumbfounded as to what was happening, and then it hit him.  _ This is just like Logstedshire _ .

Suddenly, Tommy was back in that small tent on the hill, in a sleeping bag on the cold wooden ground. He was curled in on himself, trying to protect any sort of warmth his body was producing, but felt none. He was utterly chilled to the bone.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been given a hug, or even been looked at kindly. And now, as he suffered on the ground, the stars looked down unmercifully and indifferent. Those same stars that he had once shared with Wilbur and Tubbo had turned on him, and were no longer guides, but watchful wardens. It was like a reverse panopticon: Tommy was in the center, and every star stared at him, waiting impatiently for his heart to give its final beat.

And yet, despite being watched, he was alone. Tommy was utterly alone. His breath was coming out in foggy bursts now, and he longed for the campfire of his first night in Pogtopia or some assistance from someone, anyone. Hell, if Dream showed up right now, he’d probably leap to his feet in excitement.

Tommy sat up straight, his vision blurry, breathing rapidly. His heart was beating into overtime now, the noise thundering in his ears. He fumbled through his pockets with shaking, sweaty hands, until he felt the cool metal object inside and pulled it out. He held the compass in front of him, running his fingers over the engraving, staring at the left-pointing needle as if it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Tommy! Tommy, are you alright?”

He was aware of a hand lighting on his shoulder, and couldn’t decide if he wanted to recoil or lean into it. So he froze, keeping his eyes on the compass, still breathing raggedly.

“Hey, Tommy?”

Now there was another hand grasping his other shoulder, and he was dimly aware of two eyes looking into his. Slowly, his vision began to focus again, and he saw Tubbo’s distressed eyes in front of him. Tubbo.

Tommy collapsed forward, and four arms caught him. Sobs wracked his chest, and he shut his eyes, but opened them immediately when he saw the stars behind his eyelids.

“It’s okay. Tommy, it’s okay.”

“It’s just us, big man.”

He remained stuck like that for a few minutes, one hand clenched tightly around the compass, the other reaching out and grasping someone’s hand. The warm embrace of his friends slowly banished the chill he had felt, and his breathing got a little less rapid, though it was still heavy and panicked. Tears flowed from his eyes with embarrassingly loud gasps. He couldn’t bring himself to care about that right now, though. He was just scared.

“Tommy,” Tubbo finally whispered. Tommy leaned into the hug a little more, unwilling to let go just yet, afraid that the cold would return. “Are you okay?”

“N-no,” Tommy managed between sobs. He could feel the hard edges of the compass starting to etch indents into his hand.

“Tommy, listen to me,” Ranboo said, and there was something knowledgeable in his voice that made Tommy pay attention. “When this happens to me, I breathe in for five seconds, hold it for five, and then exhale for five. I’ll count for you, okay?”

“This sounds fuc-fucking dumb,” Tommy said with a shaky laugh.

“Just do it. It’ll help, I promise. One, two, three, four, five…”

No matter how stupid he thought it was, Tommy trusted Ranboo, so he followed the directions. After a few rounds, his breathing had somewhat returned to normal, though it was still occasionally interrupted by hiccuping sobs.

He finally pulled back from the hug a little, and was relieved to find that he wasn’t immediately cold again. He looked down at his hands - one was still tightly clutching the compass that pointed to Tubbo, and the other was holding Tubbo’s hand. He looked up at the other boy and gave him a small smile, which was quickly returned. With a final glance at the ‘YOUR TUBBO’ on the compass and a check to make sure it still pointed to the boy right next to him - it did - he put it back in his pocket for safekeeping.

“What happened?” Tubbo asked gently, his lapis-blue eyes darkened with concern.

Tommy fidgeted for a moment, looking down at his lap, and then answered honestly. “I just started thinking about exile. It’s st-stupid. I’m okay now, really.”

“It’s not stupid, Tommy,” Ranboo assured him. “You went through something. It still affects you. That’s being human.”

“I made you guys worry, though. I’m really sorry.” He sniffed, wiping away the tears on his face. Poor Ranboo probably had a damp shirt now from all the crying he’d done on it.

“Don’t apologize. Tommy, look at me,” Tubbo said, and Tommy did. His eyes were intense, but he was smiling. “If you ever apologize for having feelings again, I am going to sock you in the jaw.”

Tommy laughed, and he folded his arms together to keep his hands from shaking. “Okay, fine. I’d win that fight, though.”

“I’ll start taking bets,” Ranboo said with mock exasperation, earning another laugh from all three of them.

Tommy felt warm again. His heart was beating fast, but with passion and friendship instead of anxiety. He was surrounded by friends, and while their being together didn’t quite fix all the things that were broken inside of them, it certainly helped align them in the right spots so they could begin to heal again.

“I love you guys,” Tommy blurted out before he could stop himself. Unlike before, though, immediate regret didn’t set in. All he felt was jubilation.

“We love you too, man.” Ranboo moved to Tommy’s side again and flung an arm around his shoulders. Tubbo joined him, settling in on Tommy’s other side and leaning towards him.

“And you say I’m the clingy one,” Tubbo cracked, elbowing him in the stomach.

“That’s it,” Tommy said firmly. “I’m finally gonna start stabbing shit. You’re the first to go.”

“I knew it was a good idea to buy a lock for the knife cabinet,” Ranboo chimed in.

“God fucking damnit.”

As the three boys talked and chattered into the night, the stars watched over them, not as wardens, but as guardians. A sense of peace settled over them, a knowledge that they would all be okay. And somewhere far off, those same stars shone down on a bench whose owners were now dead to everyone but each other, the only memory of their existence being the three names engraved into the wood, untouched by the violence and devastation that tore up the world around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks! I hope you enjoyed. I really don't know how I feel about this chapter, it felt like my writing juices weren't flowing correctly or something. I don't know.  
> Thank you all for reading, and again, if you like my stuff, I'll be making more of it soon! In the meantime, please feel free to leave a comment telling me what you liked, because it really does help motivate me! Don't feel obligated to, though! In the end, just thank you for reading my stuff :D


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